


Snow Bird

by The_Risen_Phoenix



Category: Final Fantasy Type-0
Genre: Branding, Character Death, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kidnapping, M/M, Pre-Relationship Ace/Kurasame, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture, poor ace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-08 04:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15234975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Risen_Phoenix/pseuds/The_Risen_Phoenix
Summary: Captured by the enemy and forced into a role he never imagined, can Ace survive in a world that has turned it's back on him?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a lot darker than anything else I have written, so read with caution and watch the tags if you think this might not be something you want to read.

 

 

The sounds of thousands of marching feet, overlaid by steel and iron clashing woke Ace from his sleep. Sitting up in his bed abruptly, Ace could hear terrified and pained screams filling the air. The smell of smoke filled his nostrils causing him to cough as he threw himself towards the floor.

 

Terrified for his siblings, Ace crawled as quickly as he could towards his door, wrenching it open only to see the horrifying sight of soldiers surrounding his brothers and sisters. Huddled in a tight group, they were being kept in place with swords pointed at them, as other soldiers opened the remaining doors and hauling out whoever they found inside.

 

The motion of Ace's door opening, caught the attention of one of their captors. And he quickly motioned towards one of his comrades to grab Ace and throw him towards the others.

 

Terrified, Ace looked towards his eldest siblings as they tried to signal him to run and leave them. If he were able to escape, then it would be worth it to them. Nodding grimly, Ace lurched to his feet and turned to run out the door. Angry yelling and the pounding of booted feet could be heard following him, but Ace did not slow. He darted out the front door of their house, and down the street away from the fighting.

 

Bare feet slapping loudly against the dirt path, breaths coming fast and shallow, Ace fled his village. Turning back once he felt he was a safe distance away, he did not notice the shadows moving within the night surrounding him. Turning once more to find safety, Ace found himself running into a tall man with dark hair and toned chest.

 

Looking up at the man, Ace saw that his hair was blue in colour and long. On either side of his head, a lock of hair protruded looking almost like the outline of a demon's wings. There was another section of hair in the front that zig-zagged down past his eyes. Ace then glanced at the man's face, seeing pale tattoos covering his forehead. He was drawn towards the other's eyes where his gaze was captured by purple eyes glimmering with malice.

 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here boys?” The man asked sneeringly. “A little runaway I see. Such a coward to flee and leave the others to their fate.”

 

Each word he spoke stabbed Ace in the heart. He knew that his siblings had wanted him to escape, but it did not soothe the feeling in his heart that he had abandoned them to their fate. The touch of a rough, calloused hand lifting his chin snapped Ace out of his self loathing thoughts.

 

“My, my you are a pretty one aren't you?” The blue haired man was now leering down at Ace. “Hmm, yes I think I will keep this one for myself. Can't sell off all of the goods now can we?”

 

Loud laughter and cheers came from the soldiers around them as they urged their leader on.

 

“I wonder boy, do you taste as sweet as you look?”

 

The grip on his chin became painfully tight as the blue haired man pulled Ace towards him. The man was leaning down towards the innocent boy, a lascivious look on his face, and Ace panicked. With a quick jerk of his head, Ace ripped his face out of the man's hold, his right hand coming up and slapping him across the face with all of his strength.

 

The blue haired man pulled back slowly, hand against his reddening cheek, feral smile on his face. Meanwhile the men surrounding them begun growling, the sounds of steel leaving sheaths echoed throughout the night. Ace tried backing up as far as he could, but swords were at his back and there was no longer anywhere that he could run to. Suddenly the man threw his head back and let out a roar of laughter.

 

“Oh yes boy. I do like you. But do you know what I like even more?” He leaned in close to Ace, fetid breath clogging his senses. “I like the thought of what it will take to break you. I like that I will be the one to do so. And I like that if you want to survive, that you will become mine. Mind and body.”

 

Without warning, he grabbed Ace by the waist, yanking him forwards and crushed his lips against Ace's. Struggling within the man's hold, Ace found that his arms were trapped and that there was no way to break away. The blue haired man continued the assault on his lips, teeth and tongue demanding entrance that Ace was unwilling to give. A hard bite against his lip had him gasping in pain, mouth slipping open, and the other took no time to take advantage of the opening.

 

A slick, slimy tongue wormed it's way into Ace's mouth making him want to gag. It continued to explore, violating every part of his mouth until his breath was spent and Ace felt like he would pass out. Ace prayed for this, for the sweet embrace of oblivion, but just before his wish was granted he was released from both the kiss and the hold. Dropping to the ground panting for breath, Ace glared up at his captor, hatred shining in his eyes.

 

Leering smirk directed down at the fallen boy, Seymour repeated, “Mine. Mind and body.”

 

A discrete cough broke them from their locked stare. Ace unwilling to break the stare and allow the other even this small victory over him, and the dark man amused by Ace's heated glare.

 

“Captain Seymour, the village is burned, and we have rounded up all the occupants to sell to the traders. We should leave before the Rubrums get word of this raid.”

 

“Hmm I guess you are right Cid.” Seymour replied, dismissing Ace's challenging stare, as he turned to mount his great black beast of a horse. “Tie his hands together and throw him up here to me.” Gesturing towards a furious Ace lazily.

 

One of the men surrounding him took him by surprise grabbing him, and tying his wrists together tightly, leaving no room for Ace to try to escape his bonds. He was the hauled upright and slung over an armoured shoulder, before being thrown face down across the front of Seymour's saddle. The pommel of the saddle dug into his stomach and the blood was rushing towards his dangling head, and Ace was sure that he would slip off and fall at any time. Ace was unsure whether or not to be thankful for the steadying hand that was placed upon him, he just wished that the other man had not had to rest against his behind!

 

“Alright men, gather the merchandise and let's head out!” With a nudge of his heels, his horse smoothly headed away from Ace's ruined village.

 

Along the path that they were following, Ace managed to spot the villagers clamped in iron shackles being dragged behind yet another soldier riding a great beast of a horse. This man was big and blonde, and an eye patch covering his left eye. His face was set like stone and he showed no care towards the injured villagers he was forcing to stumble in his wake.

 

“Ace! Ace, gods what happened to you?”

 

Ace's head jerked up at the sound of his sister's voice, eyes darting to try to find her location. But before he could find her, a loud slap was heard.

 

“You! No talking! Follow the rest or you will all be punished!”

 

Finally Ace found his brothers and sisters and his heart wept. They were beaten and bruised, chained like animals being lead to the slaughter. Meeting their eyes, all he could see was fear and pity. For they all knew what was in store for them, but for Ace to have been singled out could mean nothing good.

 

Seymour soon spurred his horse forwards towards the front of the procession, and Ace lost sight of his siblings. A feeling of despair that this might be the last time that he was able to see them swept through him, and silent tears fell from his eyes.

 

 

Several days of travel followed after that. The sounds of soldiers marching drowning out the shuffling sounds of their prisoners. Food and water were given out sparingly, barely enough to keep the villagers able enough to march. Those that were too old or too injured, causing the procession to slow, were lead away from the main group. No screams were heard, but the sick sound of metal cleaving through flesh was not something easily mistaken.

 

The fact that the soldiers returned alone confirmed what they all knew, and there were some that envied those that were killed for their swift escape from the coming hell they were descending into.

 

Each night Ace was dropped into Seymour's tent, guards posted at the entrance and patrols on high alert in case he might try to escape. Ace knew that even if he managed to escape the tent, there was no way that he could leave his brothers and sisters behind a second time, and so he remained.

 

Each night Ace fought, kicked, bit and scratched at the larger man. Screaming would do him no good, and it would only worry the others if they heard. So silently, he defended himself against any and all advances that the other made as Seymour laughed and joked as though he thought it a game. Every night he would stop as Ace lay panting beneath him. And each night he would whisper words of poison into Ace's ears.

 

“Soon little bird. I'll make you mine soon. I do so like to watch you fight, even when you know you can not win. I want to see the fight leave your eyes, I want to see you suffer as you know your fate. There. Is. No. Escape.”

 

And he would take Ace's lips again and again in brutal kisses. There was no pleasure to be found in such kisses, merely the need to dominate and demean. They tore the soft skin of Ace's lips, leaving them bloody and raw. Every night adding to the pain and humiliation.

 

Every word Seymour spoke was true. There was no escape. He couldn't win. There was no hope. Ace felt himself dying a little more inside every day and every night, but still he fought. He fought because it was what his siblings would want him to do. He could not give in, even if there was nothing else he could do, he would fight until there was nothing left of him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: non con in this chapter.

 

 

It took them two long weeks of walking to reach the invader's capital. By the time that they arrived their numbers had more than halved, more and more villagers succumbing to their captor's swords, too impatient to allow of the slowing pace of the sick and starving prisoners.

 

They were dragged through the streets towards a large and garishly decorated palace, people staring and pointing at them as they passed by. Some jeered at them, as others threw food or spat at their feet. Upon reaching the large, barred gates to the palace, the soldiers separated the men,women and children into groups. The men were then taken to the market place to be sold as workers and slaves, the women given to nobles who wanted a bed partner, willing or not. The younger children were sent to homes to be raised by their captors, while the older children were sold as slaves.

 

Ace cried out as his siblings were spilt up and sent away while he was held firmly in place across the saddle of Seymour's horse. The humiliation that Ace felt being paraded around lying across the saddle this way, was compounded by cheers coming from the crowd, encouraging Seymour to slap at his behind in a demeaning way.

 

Once all of the villagers had been dispersed, the gates opened, and the triumphant soldiers entered the palace grounds. Dismounting from his horse and throwing his reins at a waiting stable boy, Seymour threw Ace over his shoulder and strode through the front doors and towards the throne room.

 

The throne room was enormous. Black marble floors and pillars inlaid with gold accents everywhere. The walls were made of dark stone, and the only light came from raised pits filled with coal and fire, spaced along the walls. The throne itself was huge. Made of gold with eight huge wings stretching out, four to each side framing the imposing man seated there.

 

The splendour of the throne itself was overshadowed by the man that sat there. Well over six feet tall, he towered over all that stood before him, even while seated. An ornate golden mask sat upon his head, curved along the top to appear as the horns of a demon, trailing down his neck and shoulders to cover them in golden armour. Chest bare, showing off a defined musculature, displaying just how much strength he possessed. Around his hips hung a cloth of deepest purple falling like a waterfall of silk towards the ground.

 

His face was pale, eyes a startling violet with triangles of red painted over each eye, stretching from forehead and down his cheeks. His mouth was twisted into a semblance of a smile, sharp teeth showing through parted lips.

 

Approaching the other man, Seymour dropped Ace to the ground and saluted.

 

“My Lord Bhunivelze, we have return from our raid successful. The prisoners have been sent off to where they will be most useful and the money from the sales are on their way to your treasury as we speak.”

 

“Ah Captain Seymour you've done well for our great country once again. And I see that you have claimed yourself a prize.”

 

Lord Bhunivelze rose from his throne and approached Ace, the huge man dwarfing the young blonde boy. Circling around him, the Lord hummed thoughtfully.

 

“Tell me child how old are you?” He demanded imperiously.

 

Ace, who had managed to manoeuvre himself into a standing position, merely glared at the man. Seymour growled angrily, incensed at the audacity of this child before him.

 

“You will answer your Lord as he demands, or you shall face punishment!”

 

In contempt, Ace spat at their feet, eyes blazing with defiance.

 

A sudden hit to the back of his legs, sent Ace falling to his knees. The hard stone unforgiving, and the hand around his throat even more so. Out of the corner of his watering eyes, Ace saw that they were dragging in a young girl. One that he recognise from his village; Luna, small and shy and nearing womanhood. He saw as she too was forced to her knees, a soldier holding a sword against her neck. He saw her terrified face, tears streaming from her eyes as she begged for him to help her.

 

“Now boy, if you do not wish for this girl to be punished for your actions, I suggest you tell us how old you are.”

 

Seymour's voice was cold and even, as though he cared not whether they killed the girl or not. But Ace could not possibly let her be killed for his defiance, so he answered quietly.

 

“I am 17.”

 

“I am 17 _My Lord_ ” Seymour growled at him.

 

“I am 17 My Lord,” Ace repeated.

 

“How delightful.” The Lord chortled. “Such a young innocent treasure you have caught Seymour. If it would please you, I would like to partake in some of the delights that this child has to offer.”

 

Ace shuddered at the man's words.

 

“Of course My Lord. It would be my pleasure to share with you the spoils of our raid.” Seymour replied lecherously.

 

“So delicate, so fragile. Almost like a bird. You could almost mistake him as a girl Seymour. His eyes though, they stare at us so coldly. I feel the chill of snow and ice upon my skin as he glares with his glacial eyes. Like a little snow bird.”

 

Ace flinched away from the man as he reached out to run his hands along his cheekbones. Displeased, the Lord gripped the sides of his face in one hand, squeezing tightly as his malicious stare bore into Ace. Unable to turn away with his face being kept captive, Ace returned the stare with all the hatred that he could muster.

 

“Oh yes, such a fiery one this boy is. You shall have a tough time taming this one Seymour.”

 

With a final laugh, the LordBhunivelze released Ace's face and turned back towards his throne. Sitting upon it once again, he dismissed the gathered men with a wave of his hand. The captive girl was released, fleeing as fast as her legs could carry her, not even sparing a glance back towards Ace in her desperation to escape. Ace would later find her body dangling from a tree in the courtyard, a lesson to those who thought that escape was an option.

 

Once again, Ace was slung over Seymour's shoulder and carried away. This time they did not stop until they reached a locked door. Reaching into his pocket for his key, Seymour unlocked the door and entered making sure to lock it once again behind him pocketing the key once more.

 

Dropping Ace upon the floor, Seymour looked him over.

 

“You are filthy. There is a wash room through that door over there, I expect you to clean yourself and make yourself presentable. Tonight, there will be no escape for you.” The smile upon his face was terrifying.

 

Quickly Ace scrambled to his feet and fled to the indicated room. He didn't particularly care how filthy he was for the other man, but it would be nice to be able to wash off the sweat and dirt that caked him from the travelling. None of the soldiers had trusted them to wash in the river, too much risk of them trying to drown themselves, so they had not had the chance to clean themselves in weeks.

 

Studying the wash room, Ace took note that there were no windows to try to climb through, and the door itself had no lock. So there was nothing to keep Seymour from coming in whenever he pleased. With this knowledge in mind, Ace stripped quickly while filling the small tub with water. Grabbing a cloth from the pile upon the shelves, Ace lathered himself with one of the many soaps lining the counter-top.

 

Finding himself acceptably clean, Ace turned to dry and redress himself when he let out a scream. For standing behind him, watching him for who knows how long, was Seymour. His purple eyes raked over Ace's naked body, pausing here and there as he pleased. The look on his face was one of pure unadulterated lust, and it terrified Ace. Grabbing a towel to cover himself, Ace tried to back away from the approaching man.

 

When he got to about two feet away, Ace's nerves snapped and he launched himself past the other man and out the door of the wash room. He ran towards the door leading to the hall, but when he tried to turn the handle he found that it was locked. Pounding his fists desperately against the wood, Ace yelled out for help that was never coming.

 

A large calloused hand wrapped itself around his neck, and another around his arm as Ace was thrown towards the bed. Bouncing upon the mattress, Ace grabbed desperately at the flimsy towel to try to keep himself covered as he scrambled back as far as he could. Seymour's large imposing body soon loomed over him, hand wrapped again around his neck.

 

This time the look of lust on his face was tempered with fury. Ace tried to fight the other man, but the hand around his throat tightened until he was dizzy from lack of air. Finally the other released the hold enough for Ace to take great gulping breaths of air, but it never fully released it's hold.

 

Gasping, Ace's legs were forced apart, Seymour's larger body settling in between them as he forced himself into Ace's unprepared, virgin body. A feeling like he was being split in half seared through Ace's body, screams tearing their way out of him until his throat was raw, voice gone. Pain, pain is all he could feel, all he knew as Seymour continued to thrust into him; Ace's pain ratcheting his enjoyment up even higher. The scent of blood filled the air, driving Seymour on further, drove him to thrust harder and faster, until finally he spent himself within the weeping boy beneath him.

 

Pulling out and finally releasing his hold on the boy's throat, Seymour enjoyed the sight of his spend mixed with bloody trickling out of Ace's abused body. Looking over the boy, he took in the tears streaking down pale cheeks and into tangled blond locks, mouth open small wheezing whines the only sounds his abused throat could make. Eyes gone glassy as he tried to cope, mind unable to accept the violent violation of his body.

 

_'Hmm'_  Seymour thought, feeling disappointed. He had hoped that the boy would have more fight in him than that. But then again, it was only their first time together. Shoving the boy off of the bed and on to the floor, Seymour settled himself down on the mattress to sleep. Perhaps next time would be better.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, please take note of the tags.

 

The next morning Ace awoke tired and sore. Momentarily forgetting the events of the night before, he tried to rise from his spot on the ground, only to fall back as pain shot all throughout his body. Seymour sat upon his bed watching the other struggle, offering no help to the distressed boy.

“Get dressed, the Lord wishes for you to be entertainment at tonight's celebration feast. Your clothes have been prepared and are in the wash room.”

Struggling to his feet, Ace shuffled towards the wash room, closing the door in a parody of privacy. Carefully washing himself once again, Ace was disgusted with the slick fluids caked on his thighs and down his legs. Turning to look for his clothes once he was done, Ace was dismayed to see a woman's kimono laid out for him. There was no way that he was going to be paraded about whilst wearing that! Instead, Ace grabbed his dirty old clothes from where he had left them the night before and put them on.

When he emerged from the wash room, Seymour's face twisted into a look of unbelievable fury.

“You dare to defy me again?” He hissed. “You will wear the clothes that you have been provided or I will tear those rags from your body right now!”

Ace stared defiantly up at the man. He may have been taken against his will last night, and shock might have stopped him from fighting as hard as he had hoped he would have, but he was not going to obey this man. His self labelled master.

“No.”

With a scream of primal rage, Seymour launched himself at Ace. Grabbing a handful of his tattered cloth top, he tore at the fabric until it was hanging in shreds from Ace's body. Grabbing hold of the fabric, he tore the strips off and used them to tie Ace's hands together around the end of the bed. Pulling his belt from his pants, Seymour stormed toward the cowering Ace and raised his arm.

The belt whistled as it came down again and again across Ace's back. Stripes of red, some oozing blood, criss-crossing over his back. There was no rhythm nor technique to the lashings, Seymour was too far lost in his rage to care for the damage he was causing. Only when he realised that Ace had collapsed to his knees, back red and raw did he stop, panting hard.

Seymour sighed, rage spent, as he untied the unresponsive boy. He could not help but blame Ace for his loss of composure. He would have to inform the Lord Bhunivelze that Ace would be unavailable tonight to provide entertainment for the guests.

“Boy, why do you make me do these things to you? You are mine, and if I have to, I will prove it to you until you realise it.”

Seymour placed Ace upon a blanket on the ground, and left to inform his Lord.

  
It took Ace many weeks to heal from the lashing that he had received, and he would receive many more each time he refused to wear the women's kimono's that were laid out for him. In the end he accepted to wear them when they once again threatened another of the villagers from his home. His captors had soon realised that in order to get him to comply, they needed to use his kind-heartedness against him. For Ace could never let another suffer in his place for his defiance.

The lashings became a lot less frequent after that. Though the violations of his body continued. Whether is was the Lord Bhunivelze taking his pleasure from him, or another that he lent him out too, or more often than not Seymour. His body had adjusted to the constant violations, and now he knew how to cope with the pain, and to some extent lessen it. But never did he find any pleasure from the act.

The title that the Lord had given him upon meeting had stuck, so he was now known as 'Snow Bird'. Ace used this as a way to separate himself from the things that were being done to him. Ace was pure, innocent, naive still; while Snow Bird was the whore that men pleasured themselves with.

It was after the Lord and lent him out to a visiting dignitary that had shown too much interest in him, enough to offer to buy him, that Seymour was filled with jealousy. His rage was forever striped across Ace's back, but he wanted further proof that this boy was his.

That night Ace awoke from his slumber to the feeling of four large soldiers holding down his limbs. Each had a grim look upon their face, and none would make eye contact with him. He could not see Seymour, but he could hear him muttering to himself. Managing to turn his head, Ace saw him standing before the fire, holding something within the flames. As he turned, Ace saw a branding iron red, a blazing fiery red, held in his hand.

Seeing the man approach holding the iron, Ace started to struggle in earnest, protests falling from his lips as he did. Why was he being punished? He had not done anything wrong! The men held him down firmly as Seymour drew closer. Holding the iron above the skin of Ace's lower back, where anyone who took him would be able to see it, Ace could feel the heat radiating from it.

“Ah I so wish it did not have to come to this my little Snow Bird. But you see, people are forgetting that you are mine and that is just not on. So this is necessary to remind them. Now be good and hold still for me.”

With that he pressed the burning brand into Ace's skin. Ace screamed as his flesh burned and bubbled beneath the branding iron, and the guards stomachs turned at the smell of burning flesh. Seymour held the iron against his skin with a look of cool calculation, unwilling to remove it before the mark was permanent. Finally when Ace's screams had trailed off into whimpers, and damn had he missed that sound, he removed the iron.

Dead, burnt flesh peeled away with the iron as he pulled it back, blood coating the area. Grabbing a bowl of salted water, Seymour poured it over the wound to clean it make sure it had taken. Ace's body spasmed in agony as the salt stung the burn, leaving streaks of bloody water across his back, dead skin peeling away from the burnt area. Satisfied with the result, Seymour finally motioned to the soldiers to release the barely conscious boy and leave.

Thankful to be able to escape the terrible smell now permeating the air, the soldiers fled the room. Pity filled some of them, though never enough to try to help the boy. They knew that if such a thing were to happen and it was discovered, death would be the kindest thing that could happen to them.

The sight of his mark upon Ace's skin aroused Seymour to no end. With no care for the amount of pain that the boy was currently in, Seymour yanked his pants down and mounted him. Ace weakly kicked out at him, trying to resist, but his strength had been taken by the branding. His back burned and screamed with pain and his skin felt like it was on fire. Ace felt his conscious retreat, the pain and humiliation too much for him to bear. There was no fight left in him anymore, the lashes he could accept as a mark of his fight against his captor; but to bear said man's mark was too much for him.

Hauling the mostly unresponsive boy up by the hips onto his knees, Seymour laid a possessive hand upon the new brand with a sense of pride. This brand proclaimed the boy as his, and now everyone would know it. His excitement was ratcheting higher and higher as he stroked over the ruined skin. His thrusts harder, faster and more brutal. It was not long before he felt his climax claim him, and he withdrew to paint the brand in his come. He rubbed the fluid into the skin, just another way to mark the boy as his. He already owned the boy's body, and it was apparent that with this last act, the boy's mind was retreating to protect itself. Soon that would be his also. He had finally managed to break the boy, but the sense of achievement didn't come. Perhaps he had so enjoyed him because of his fight. It was too late now to ruminate on such things, what was done was done.

From that day onwards Ace's mind retreated to protect itself, the small flame of hope staying alive that one day things would get better. Outwardly it seemed that Ace ceased to exist and Snow Bird took over and he became the perfect concubine. He dressed as they instructed, performed anything asked of him, he was demure and polite never speaking out of turn. He threw coy looks at the men he was told to seduce and bedded whomever he was told to bed. This was his reality, and there was nothing that could change that. At least that was what Ace thought. Until the day an enormous dragon landed in the middle of the palace courtyard, rider upon it's back.

The dragon was beautiful, scales shading from deepest night blue to sea blue along throat and underbelly. Claws looking like shards of deadly ice tore down the walls and gates and let the invaders in. Ice, not fire, blew from the great open maw freezing in place regiment and regiment of Lord Bhunivelze's soldiers.

The streets were filled with more of the invading soldiers upon great feathery birds, fighting the guards there while trying to avoid and protect the civilians. Slowly but surely, the invaders took over the town. There was no stopping them as many soldiers threw down their arms and begged for mercy.

A great cry was going throughout the Lord's troops, “The Rubrums have come to extract revenge on us for raiding that village! Flee for your lives!”

Many a soldier fled the battle that day, though the Rubrums did not pursue the cowards.

Launching himself off of the dragon's back, the masked rider signalled his group to enter the palace. The resistance inside was weak, as though they had already resigned themselves to their fate and had not the will to fight. Upon entering the throne room, the masked soldier and his troops found the Lord reclining on his throne as though he had not a care in the world.

“Kurasame.” He greeted cordially. “Such an entrance you made. I never knew you were one for such dramatics.”

“Bhunivelze.” Kurasame growled. “Your time to rule is over. But your fate is not mine to decide, that is for the rest of the troops out there.” He gestured out towards where the rest of his army were fighting.

“Now tell me, where is Seymour?”

Bhunivelze chuckled. “Why I suppose he is in his room, so caught up in ravishing his little Snow Bird that he did not hear the invasion happening!”

“You will surrender yourself for judgement, Bhunivelze. You shall be transported to Rubrum for trial and for any punishment to be carried out.”

“Ah Kurasame, you are so naïve to think that I would surrender so willingly. But you must know that you can not kill a god. Nor can you arrest me, not if you can not find me.”

With a maniacal laugh and a bright flash of light, Bhunivelze disappeared. The throne empty of the man and not a trace left of his whereabouts.

“Find him” Kurasame ordered his men, as they hurriedly spilt up into teams to located the displaced Lord.

“Commander, do you require assistance in tracking down the traitor?” One brave trooper asked.

With a tired sigh, Kurasame pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thank you Eight, but this is something that I must do on my own. Catch up to Machina's team to assist them if you would.”

Eight saluted his commander, and hurried off to find his assigned team.

Locating a cowering maid, Kurasame as gently as he could, obtained the information that he was seeking. He traversed the halls of black stone, until he found himself standing before a wooden door with devil wings burnt into it. Kicking the door open with his foot, Kurasame was not prepared for the sight that met his gaze.

Upon the bed laid a beautiful maiden, dressed in a kimono made of finest silk. Dark blue, faded into pale purple at the hem, little blossoms decorating the fabric; a purple belt held the kimono together. A delicate flower clip held back tussled blonde locks from falling into the bluest eyes he had ever seen. Nearly drowning in those eyes, Kurasame almost did not notice Seymour between her legs grunting as he came. So this must be the 'Snow Bird' that Bhunivelze had mentioned before.

Tearing his eyes away from the blonde beauty, Kurasame turned towards his estranged traitor of a brother.

“Seymour.” His voice was ice cold, the word freezing the man upon the bed.

Ace wondered who the masked man was, and why he had entered the room. Seymour did not like their time being interrupted. He took in the clothes that the other was wearing and concluded that this man was not from here, and judging by the sword gripped tightly in his hand, he was probably not friendly towards those from here. Perhaps this man would release him from this torment?

Turning to face the intruder, Seymour sneered. "Brother.”


	4. Chapter 4

 

Any hopes that Ace might have harboured regarding the man shattered at that one word. If this man really was Seymour's brother, then to be taken away by him would be just trading one cage for another. His only hope now, was that the man would kill him too.

 

Uncaring about his nudity, Seymour pulled out of Ace grabbing his sword and lunging at Kurasame. Side-stepping quickly, Kurasame parried the blow and sent a wave of ice magic towards Seymour. Jumping out of the way, Seymour tutted at Kurasame.

 

“Now now little brother. You won't want to hurt my little Snow Bird with your magic now, would you?” He taunted.

 

Regardless of his rage, Kurasame did not want to harm any innocents in this fight, so he restricted he use of magic.

Scrambling to cover himself, Ace fled to the wash room to avoid the magic and steel flying through the air. Although Kurasame was being careful not to harm him, Seymour held no such scruples. Ducking under a wave of fire aimed toward the masked man, Ace finally hid himself behind the tub in the wash room.

 

Noticing that the civilian had fled, Kurasame stopped holding back. Sword and magic flew through the air, carving their way in this brother's skin. He fought for every person Seymour had betrayed and slaughtered in his treachery, fought for their father whose throat he had slit as he held the body of the wife and mother he had slain. He fought for the little blond bird that had fled earlier, the look on her face letting him know that the act was not mutual. Only a monster would force another into an act that should be shared only between lovers.

 

Never again. Seymour would never touch that little bird ever again. Kurasame would make damn sure of it. His next blast of ice magic caught Seymour's feet freezing him to the ground. His flames of fire working hard to undo the ice, but not quick enough to prevent Kurasame from thrusting his boreal blade through his chest.

 

Eyes widening in disbelief, Seymour's hands rose to grip the blade protruding from his chest. Looking down to see the proof embedded in his chest, Seymour coughed out a bloodied laugh.

 

“So this is what it has come to brother. You have finally taken your revenge for my betrayal. Congratulations.” Seymour bared his teeth in a feral smile, made worse by the bloody coating his teeth. “Just remember, this is not the end. You will never be the man I am.”

 

A ornately carved dagger buried itself between Seymour's shocked eyes, ice exploding front the blade, killing him instantly.

 

“Good” Kurasame spat. “For I would never wish to be anything like the man that you have turned out to be.”

 

Pulling both dagger and sword out of Seymour's body, Kurasame took the time to wipe the blades clean on the soiled sheets of the bed. Once cleaned, he sent the weapons back to the ether he kept them in when he wasn't using them, and looked down at the body of his fallen brother. As much as he might hate the man, Kurasame was a man of integrity, and so he removed a blanket from the bed and laid it over the body to cover his naked form.

 

Once his self imposed task had been completed, Kurasame went in search of the blond maiden. Heading towards the wash room where he had seen her head, at first glance Kurasame could not see her and thought that perhaps she had slipped out of the bedroom door while they had been fighting.

 

On second glance though, he caught sight of the bottom of her kimono poking out from behind the tub. Crouching down to make himself seem less threatening, Kurasame approached slowly.

 

“It's alright little one. I won't hurt you. Seymour has been defeated and you are safe with me. I will take you back to Rubrum where you can start a new life if you wish. Or I can take you wherever you want.”

 

By this time, Kurasame had managed to make his way around the side of the tub where the girl was hiding. He was caught by surprise however, when the girl launched at him tears glistening in beautiful blue eyes, gazing at him in seeming adoration for killing her captor and freeing her.

 

“Thank you kind sir for ending my captivity here.” Her voice was soft and musical, drawing Kurasame in. “How ever might I repay you?”

 

Her red heud lips drew his gaze and Kurasame found it nearly impossible to tear his eyes away. He did so though, because he was not willing for her to do anything that she did not wish to herself.

 

“Ah I see” she laughed, the sound like tinkling chimes. “I believe that I can live with that as payment.”

 

One of her small pale hands rose to cup the side of his face and her lips drew closer to Kurasame's own. Holding his breath in anticipation, Kurasame could practically taste those cherry red lips upon his own. They were just millimetres apart when Kurasame sucked in a quick shocked breath, as with her other hand the little blond had dug a metal file into his abdomen.

 

“I will accept no other master now that the last one is dead. I am no man's possession to be owned or kept.” She spat at him, venom dripping from every word.

 

Reacting quickly to save himself from gaining a nice new hole in his flesh, Kurasame grabbed her wrist and twisted it as gently as he could, until the file dropped from her fingers. Dismayed and disarmed, like a hurricane of fury, she attacked with fists and feet and teeth, attacking him like it was her only hope. He was pushed back against the stone floor, the frantically fighting blonde on top of him. As gently as he could, Kurasame grabbed both of her flying fists in one of his large hands and flipped them over so his body pinned her bucking form down.

 

At hearing the news that this man had killed Seymour, the part of Ace that he had locked away broke free. If he could just get past this man, perhaps seduce him and then somehow render him unconscious, there would be no one to stop him from leaving and starting anew somewhere else. Maybe he would try to return home to his village and see what was left. But when the man so easily disarmed him, he fought with all of the hatred, fear and desperation that he had held in this whole time.

 

Promises of safety and freedom fell from the other man's lips, but Ace only scoffed internally. Did the man think him so stupid as to believe his words? Ace had not missed the appreciative look the other man had not been able to hide when he first saw him, until that look turned to disgust as he witnessed his violation; the lust when he had offered a kiss as thanks, and he was not willing to become this man's whore too. Not when true freedom was so close at hand. With the fighting going on, none of the Lord's soldiers would notice him slipping away. And so he fought with everything he had, until he was pinned beneath the other's weight, hope once again dying within him.

 

Panting and pinned down on the cold stone floor, for the first time Ace took a proper look at his so called saviour. Indigo coloured hair, tousled from the fight with both Seymour and Ace himself, above stern brows. Piercing blue eyes staring intently into his own eyes, as though trying to pass along a message that Ace could not decipher. His nose and mouth were covered by a mask of stiff black cloth and dulled silver, causing Ace to wonder why he hid. The man was tall and lean, but if the ease with which he held Ace's body down was any indication, he was not lacking in strength.

 

Kurasame took the time the little blond bird spent eyeing him, to gather himself together to try to convince her to return to Rubrum with him. He could not stand the thought that someone else might try to take advantage of her, and that she might end up in this same situation again.

 

“I'm going to let you up now.” Kurasame quietly said, beginning to draw himself away from the other's body. “Please do not attack or try to run again. I do not wish to harm you, but I will cast a sleep spell on you if try to. There is also guards at the door outside, so even if you were to run, they would assume you to be a suspicious person and detain you. I promise that I you are safe with me.”

 

Ace eyed this man warily. It was hard to judge the expression on his face with the mask covering half of it, but the look in his eyes seemed to indicate that he was sincere. And well, although the man did have him pinned, he had not tried to take him as others would surely have tried to.

 

When the blonde beneath him nodded her assent, Kurasame gently eased himself off of her and released her wrists. He noticed that as gentle as he had tried to be, he had left marks on her wrists that she was rubbing as she sat up, shuffling back as far away from him as possible. She flinched when he reached into his jacket for a potion, but looked at him in confusion as he offered it to her.

 

“It...it's a potion.” Kurasame offered perplexed. “For your wrists? I hurt them when I grabbed you and this should heal them.”

 

Still she continued to look at him confused.

 

“I don't understand.” She stated. “This is nothing worth using magic for, I am sure there are far more injured people out there on the battlefield that need this more than I.”

 

“It's.....I.....it would, that is to say, that we do not like to harm civilians. And especially not women and children. We carry extra potions to ensure that those injured may help any that are caught in the crossfire.”

 

“Ok, I understand that.” Ace started patiently. This man sure was a confusing solider. “But I am neither a woman nor a child. Besides, I have had much worse injuries before that have healed fine on their own. There is no need for you to waste such a precious resource on myself.”

 

“Admittedly they are not a dime a dozen, but they are hardly difficult to obtain......Wait. You're not?”

 

“Not what?” Ace asked perplexed. Had Seymour hit him in the head maybe? That was the only thing that Ace could think of that might explain this man's odd behaviour.

 

“Not....not a child.... or woman?” Kurasame asked hesitantly; he had a bad feeling about this. It was increased when the little blonde before of him began laughing at him.

 

“I am an 18 year old man, kind sir. Have you thought me a maiden all this time?” Ace mocked.

 

Kurasame nodded embarrassedly. Even knowing that he was a man had not changed his opinion of the other's beauty though. Ace continued to laugh at him, though not meanly.

 

“Well I suppose that I can not blame you, as that had been what Seymour had wished others to see. You are not the first to be fooled, but hopefully if your promises are true, it will be the last time.”

 

“I swear to you on my honour, that you shall never be forced to be anything other than who and what you truly are.”  
  
Kurasame raised his fist to his chest as he made his vow, as Ace stared at him in shock. No one had ever treated him this kindly, not even before he had been captured, perhaps he could try to trust this man to keep his word.

 

“Ok” Ace spoke quietly, hesitantly. “I'll come with you. I....I wish to once again experience the freedom that you are offering to me, and I am trusting you not to betray me in this.”

 

Ace looked to Kurasame with wary eyes, wanting to trust, but no longer sure quite how to. Kurasame answered with as much reassurance and honesty as he could, though he knew that his actions would have a much greater affect than mere words ever could.

 

Rising to his feet, Kurasame offered a tentative hand towards the other man. Equally tentative, Ace reached out to take the hand and was pulled gently to his feet. Kurasame quickly let go of Ace's hand, seemingly understanding that the other would not be fond of prolonged contact with a stranger.

 

Suddenly wary, Ace watched at the other man removed his coat, but was surprised when he offered it to him.

 

“Ah I thought you might wish to cover yourself so as to not run into any more problems along the way, and our mode of transport most likely will leave you very chilled without the protection.”

 

Nodding in understanding, Ace slipped the coat on. The sleeves covered his hands, and he could wrap it around himself nearly twice, and he was pretty sure if he wasn't careful that he would trip over the trailing material. But it was warm and smelled like fresh mown grass and sweat tea, so Ace snuggled further into it and smiled briefly in thanks.

 

Gesturing for Ace to follow him, Kurasame led the way out of the door and through the bed room. On the floor was a blanket covered lump, soaking up the blood pooling beneath it. When Ace first caught sight of the covered body of Seymour, he wanted to scream and kick at it. Wanted to spit on his body and yell out all of his pain and his anger. But there was no point. He had also been taught to respect the dead, for in death their sins would be judged by another, and defiling their body would not bode well for the person judged.

 

So he drew in a sharp, shuddering breath, and turned away, only for his eyes to meet icy blue eyes shining with understanding. They both turned away from the room and headed towards the hall door. Upon opening the door, Ace cast a half-hearted glare at the other man. There were no guards standing outside the door waiting for them. Kurasame shrugged sheepishly.

 

“I wanted to talk to you without you trying to escape. It was a risk, but I was hoping to convince you of my sincerity.”

 

“Has anyone told you that you are an ass,” Ace huffed, only slightly miffed.

 

“All the damn time!” Kurasame replied, eyes crinkling with mirth.

 

“Yeah I can see how that happens,” Ace snarked back at him. He was surprised that he was feeling so comfortable in the other's presence, but decided that until he was given a reason not to be, he would continue as he was.

 

They made their way out of the ruined castle carefully, unhappy citizens and soldiers razing the place and taking anything not nailed down. Kurasame fought when he needed to, but for the most part they tried to avoid unnecessary battles. Upon making it out of the front of the castle doors, Ace stumbled to a halt.

 

“Holy mother of fu.....Is....is that a sodding dragon?” He exclaimed in disbelief.

 

Kurasame smirked at him, the smug bastard. “Yes this is our ride. Meet Eau Gelée.”

 

“Eau ju what? What the hell does that even mean?” Ace demanded. He looked confused what Kurasame suddenly looked a little embarrassed.

 

“It er, it means frozen water. Because he's an ice dragon.”

 

“Frozen water.” Ace dead panned. “Ice dragon. Riiiiiight.”

 

“Alright, look, I was only ten when I named him ok? So let's just drop this and hop on and get out of here alright?” Kurasame pleaded.

 

With a last chortle of amusement, Ace took Kurasame's hand and clambered up on to the dragon's back, settling himself upon the wide, comfortable saddle. Moments later, the other man swung himself up upon the saddle and settled himself behind Ace, making sure to hold the other securely.

 

“Ah sorry, I will need to hold you to make sure you don't fall. The ride can get a little rough if we hit air pockets.” Kurasame apologised.

 

Ace nodded his assent. Surprisingly having the other so close and holding him against his body was not affecting him like he thought it would. He thought that it might have something to do with the feeling of warmth and safety that he radiated.

 

“So er, what is the name of my saviour?” Ace asked as Kurasame adjusted straps and buckles before their take off.

 

“Oh, oh I'm sorry. I'm Kurasame. And you must be Snow Bird?” Kurasame knew he had made a mistake as soon as he felt the other tense against him.

 

“NO!” Ace hissed. “That is not my name, was never my name, just the title they gave to me when I was their prisoner. No, my name is Ace.”

 

“Apologies Ace, I did not mean to upset you so.” Kurasame murmured softly.

 

Ace let out a heavy sigh and relaxed his tense body. “No I am sorry for getting angry at you. You could not have known. Just don't ever call me that again please?”

 

“You have my word.” Kurasame promised. “Now prepare yourself. We are about to take flight!”

 

Rearing up upon his back legs Eau Gelée spread his huge wings and launched himself into the air. The wind rushed past Ace's face, whipping his hair all over the place, and he had never felt so free in his life. Finally the dragon stopped climbing higher into the sky and levelled out, gliding along the gentle wind currents as Kurasame directed her towards Ruburm.

 

For the second time in his life, Ace was being carried away to a new beginning. This time though, he had a feeling that everything was going to be alright.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

Things did not automatically turn out for the better for Ace, regardless of the fact that he had be released from his captivity. Ace had not been the only person to have been rescued from Lord Bhunivelze, and the others both recognised and scorned Seymour's former concubine.

 

The people of Rubrum, witnessing their Commander return from the raid with a beautiful woman in tow, had come to the conclusion that she had been a war prize that he had taken. The knowledge that Ace was in fact male, did not deter the rumours, had in fact fanned the flames of gossiping servants and nobles alike.

 

The behaviour that the other former captives showed Ace, drew their attention, and that is when the rumours of his past started to surface. Once that knowledge came out, nobles started looking down on him even further, even going as far as to try propositioning him or asking Kurasame for 'favours'.

The servants sneered at the boy, all compassion for being a captive gone, as they assumed that Ace had been trading his body for protection and thus had not had to face the hardships many of the others had had to deal with.

 

Once Kurasame heard of these rumours, he tried his very best to put them to rest. It was not his place to tell of the ordeals that Ace had faced, but he also would not tolerate such things to be said about such a sweet person. But as soon as the first noble approached him to ask to spend the night with his “prize”, all hell broke loose.

 

To say that the encounter did not end well, would be an understatement. In fact the encounter ended with Kurasame's clenched fist buried in the Noble’s face as he yelled at the man for daring to speak of another in such a manner. When his men were finally able to pull Kurasame off of the other man, he was still seething with anger.

 

“If I ever hear you speak of another in such a manner, I will personally castrate you. A man like you does not deserve to be in the mere presence of such a strong and brave person such as Ace. You will never again speak as though you have the right to another's body just because of your idiotic ideas. Now begone from here before the hold on my temper slips.”

 

The noble man ran, as though the hounds of hell were baying at his heels; leaving Kurasame standing there feeling both ashamed at his actions, but also viciously proud at defending Ace's honour.

 

Gossip regarding the disturbance spread far and wide, and as a consequence, Ace found himself isolated and left alone. No one wanted to get to close to the newcomer and incur Kurasame's wrath, and the others rescued at the same time as him whispered and spread lies that it was proof that he had already wormed his way into the handsome Commander's bed.

 

Try as he might to ignore the hateful things being spoken about himself, Ace could not ignore everyone ignoring him. Servants and nobles alike, who had once spoken kindly to him, now turned away at his approach and pretended that he was not there. Drowning in loneliness, Ace spent hours wandering around his new home. It was on one such day that he found himself down at the training yards, watching the soldiers train. He was enthralled at seeing their skill on display, and did not hear the approach of a familiar man.

 

“Ace? Is....is that really you?” The man questioned incredulously.

 

Ace spun around in shock at hearing a voice that he thought he would never again hear. The man standing there wore Rubrum's colours from head to toe. A training outfit with a symbol on the chest proclaiming him a trooper from the army. His brown hair was ruffled from training and his warm brown eyes shining with hope.

 

“Eight?” Ace's voice was filled with disbelief. “What...what are you doing here? How are you here? How did you escape? Gods Eight, I missed you!”

 

Ace threw himself at Eight and held the other tightly. Eight brought his hands up to hold Ace and stroke his blonde hair as the slightly older boy as tears started to soak his shoulder. Whispers broke out between the soldiers in the training yard as they all tried to work out how this no name trooper knew the Commander's boy. Noticing that they were attracting stares from everyone, and knowing that it was the last thing that Ace needed right then, Eight gently started to lead him towards a quieter area. This of course sparked more rumours, but at that moment Eight could not have cared less. Right now, all he could think about was his brother.

 

“Hey, hey now Ace it's ok. Let's get somewhere more private and I'll tell you everything I can ok? And if you want, you can tell me about what happened to you ok? I'm here to listen brother, I want to help.”

 

Ace nodded his head as he wiped away the wetness staining his cheeks, sniffing quietly to try to erase the evidence of his breakdown. He followed Eight closely, never more than a step behind, until they reached a lesser used meeting room that was empty. Shutting the door behind them, and cursing the fact that there was no way to lock the door, Eight settled himself on the couch and Ace snuggled up against his side craving the contact.

 

“Now you're probably wondering how I'm here right?” Eight asked. A small nod was his only answer.

 

“When we were sold to work in the mines we were once again marched to our new lives. Some of us however were stolen away during the nights by Rubrum soldiers and freed. They were smart about it too, made it look as though wild animals had picked them off by leaving scraps of clothes and bones scattered around so that they were none the wiser. Most of the freed slaves chose to go back to their homes, but I decided that I would dedicate my life to helping others as I had been helped. I guess I also thought that if I were able to do this, that I might one day be able to help the others too.”

 

Ace looked up at him then, hope shining in his eyes, questioning whether or not he had managed to find any of their other siblings. Eight sighed heavily.

 

“We found Nine and King next, though Nine's mouth had obviously gotten him into trouble. They decided not to go home, but not to join Rubrum either. They went to find the girls and try to free them. I heard rumours that they had rescued Cinque, Deuce and Cater, before any word regarding them went silent. I hope that they went home and not that something terrible has happened to them.”

 

Ace's head was once again buried in the crook of his neck, and Eight could feel tears soaking into his uniform once more.

 

“As for the others, I don't know. I haven't heard anything, but I try to keep my ears open and gather any information that I can. When I heard that we were going back to attack that castle, I knew that I had to go to try to save you. I didn't manage to save you, but the Commander did, and for that I will be forever thankful.”

 

Eight held Ace's trembling form close to him. He had a rough idea of the sort of horrors that had occurred to his brother, not least since he had been there when the Lord had referred to him as a toy and named him 'Snow Bird'. He knew what sort of people were given names like that, and it sickened him to think that his brother had had to endure that sort of treatment in his captivity.

 

“Do...do you want to talk about what happened to you?” Eight asked hesitantly. Ace shook his head, a look of fear and self-hatred on his face. “Yeah ok, you don't have to. But I'm here if you ever want to ok?”

 

Ace made a small sound of assent, and curled up closer to his brother.

 

From that moment on, whenever Kurasame was unavailable to spend time with Ace, instead of wandering around alone and shunned, Ace would go in search of his brother. It wasn't long before Eight, fed up with the rumours flying around, flew off the handle and yelled at everyone.

 

“He's my brother for the God's sake! Stop spreading rumours about him, stop being ass-holes to him. He is the sweetest person you will ever meet, and all you can do is try to tear him down and treat him like dirt! You are no better than the people we rescued him from, and I am ashamed to call you comrade.”

 

With a last disgusted look at the men surrounding him, Eight stormed off to find Ace and spend some time helping him to train. To find a weapon that he might be able to wield so that he could defend himself if ever the need arose again.

 

After Eight's outburst, many of the soldiers took a look at their behaviour and were ashamed at what they found. They no longer said derogatory things about Ace, and in fact started to speak with him to try to get to know him. When they discovered that Ace was in fact a kind, friendly person under all the layers of defences he surrounded himself with, they felt even worse at their treatment of him and were determined to become friends with him. Eight kept a wary eye on everything, not willing to trust them straight away after their previous behaviour, but after nothing bad happened and Ace started to come out of his shell, he relaxed; glad that Ace was being included and that he was making friends.

 

Kurasame however was not sure how to feel. He had been shocked, but gladdened that Ace had been able to reunite with his brother Eight, and he was happy enough for them to spend time together; but all of these other people made him feel almost angry that they were taking away time that he could be spending with Ace.

 

The boy had intrigued him when he first met him, showing courage and bravery. The trust that he had shown Kurasame had humbled him. He did not feel that he would have been able to trust an unknown person as quickly as Ace had; and though they had spoken on the flight to Rubrum, the wind made conversation difficult to keep up. Every new thing that he learnt about Ace, just drew Kurasame towards the other more and more.

 

Kurasame had been busy lately trying to put to rest fears that a war would be coming in retaliation because of the latest raid, and he had been missing the time that he had been spending with the boy when they had first arrived home. He watched as the shy, but courageous boy was torn down again and again by others as he tried desperately to stop the damage being caused by rumours, only to see Ace be shunned and turned away from any who could become a friend to the lonely boy.

 

His heart ached for Ace each time he saw the servants turn away from his friendly advances. The walls that he had built around his heart after this brother's betrayal crumbled, as Ace burrowed himself into Kurasame's arms when he was able to tear himself away from meetings. Everything about the boy brought up feelings that Kurasame could not, or would not act on. The boy had only just escaped a terrible situation where his bodily autonomy had been stripped from him, and the last thing that he needed right now was another person throwing themselves at him; no matter what Kurasame was feeling, Ace's well-being came first.

 

Refusing to put an actual name to his emotions, Kurasame tried to spend more time than ever with the blonde boy now that the concerns regarding retaliation were settled. Taking him out on the chocobos that they kept, after finding out from Eight that he had been obsessed with the birds when he had been younger. He had even taken him out once again on his dragon when he had needed to scout the borders for threats.

 

He hoarded Ace's attention jealously and became sulky when he spent time with others, even his brother. To try to bring Ace's attention back to him, Kurasame worked tirelessly to locate his other siblings and free them if need be. He tracked everyone of them down and presented the information to Ace on one of their times alone.

 

When Ace received the folder from Kurasame, he had no idea what it was for. He looked oddly at the other man, as he made motions for him to read the contents of the file. Opening up the folder and reading the information that it contained, Ace's breath stalled in his lungs. His brothers and sisters, they were safe. Some had been freed like Eight had mentioned, a few others had been sold to families that Kurasame paid, so that he could secure their release and freedom. Sice, unfortunately had suffered a great injury and as such was no longer able to speak or travel great distances.

 

Eyes shining with joy, Ace looked up at the nervous man sitting next to him. This man had gone out of his way when he was buried under his own country's concerns, to put his mind at ease. He had tracked down every one of his siblings, and if he was reading the information correctly, had arranged for them all to come to Rubrum to live and work freely with the knowledge that they would be protected and safe here.

 

Without thought, Ace threw himself at Kurasame and embraced him. He let all of his joy, relief and thankfulness out as he held the other tightly. Tears of happiness leaked out of his eyes, as Ace became overcome with emotion. Pulling back to tearfully to gaze at Kurasame, Ace smiled tremulously. Reaching out a hand slowly, Kurasame gently wiped the tears from Ace's cheeks concerned.

 

“Happy tears I promise.” Ace stammered out. “Thank you Kurasame, thank you so much. I know that you know just how much this means to me. I must go let Eight know!”

 

Kurasame's heart sank as Ace rose to leave. He had hoped that they would get to spend more time together, but he had been foolish to think that Ace would not have wanted to let his brother know the news straight away. He would have to be happy with the smile and the hug that he had received, at least until they were able to be together again. Lost in his own thoughts, Kurasame was shocked when he felt the fleeting touch of lips against his cheek. He looked up in time to see a blushing Ace retreating.

 

When he reached the door, Ace stopped and turned his head looking over his shoulder at the stunned man.

 

“Thank you again Kurasame.” And with a last soft smile, Ace slipped out the door and left.

 

The embarrassment that Ace felt for kissing the other man painted his face a bright fiery red. He could not believe that he had done that! Never had he felt like this about another before, and the feelings that the other man stirred within him both terrified and excited him. Ace did not know when or how he had begun to have feelings for the other man, perhaps it had started when he had vowed to protect him and never force him to be someone else. Maybe it had been when he held him so tightly but tenderly as the flew away from the nightmare that had been Ace's life.

 

Or maybe it was the kind soul that the man possessed, the way that he always listened to Ace and tried to spend as much time as he could with him when he saw that he was struggling. The feeling of safety that Ace basked in whenever he was in Kurasame's presence. The feeling that nothing could touch him or hurt him, if only Kurasame was there; standing between him and anything trying to destroy him. His touch calmed and soothed him, when before the only touches he endured cause pain and humiliation.

 

But the man had made no move to ask for more from Ace. No indication that such feeling and emotions would be welcomed by him. Perhaps the man was not interested in other men? Or, and here Ace's heart nearly broke, perhaps the other man just did not want to touch such used goods. After all, Ace had lost count of the many men that had taken and used him, it did not bear thinking that a man such as Kurasame would want a dirtied whore such as himself.

 

Coming to a halt at one of the benches in the garden, Ace collapsed upon the stone as he drowned in his self-hatred. It could have been minutes or hours later that Eight found him still sitting there, knees drawn up to his chest, eyes wet with unshed tears. Confused, as Ace was supposed to be spending time with Kurasame, and unsure what was wrong, Eight sat beside his miserable brother and held him gently. Turning into his brother's embrace, Ace finally let his tears fall.

 

“'M so stupid. No way.....used....tainted.....such a whore....” Eight was alarmed at the words that Ace was mumbling.

 

“Hey, hey Ace look at me.” Eight gently tipped Ace's face up towards him. “You are not stupid. You are not used, or tainted or a whore. And if I hear anyone call you that I'll kick their ass. That includes you too, you know?”

 

This managed to pull a small wet laugh out of Ace as he dried his tears.

 

“Now how about you tell me what that was all about hmm?” Eight asked gently. Ace looked away embarrassed.

 

“I don't think I can Eight. Just give me a minute to think?” Eight nodded his acceptance as he gently brushed back Ace's fringe. Looking to the side, Eight noticed a folder sitting on the bench beside Ace.

 

“What's that?” He asked pointing. Ace looked over to where he was pointing and brightened.

 

“Kurasame gave that to me earlier. Eight, look inside,” Ace shoved the folder into Eight's unsuspecting hands, causing him to fumble with it. “The information inside tells us where everyone is. All of our siblings Eight, every one of them. And Kurasame arranged for them to come live here! With us! We won't be separated again.”

 

“Oh, oh my gods!” Eight exclaimed unable to believe the words he was hearing and reading. “This can't be true. Oh gods please let this be true!”

 

“It's true Eight, and it's all because of Kurasame. He did this for us.” Ace was practically bouncing in his seat.

 

Eight slid a sideways look at his brother. “You mean he did this for _you_.” He stated softly.

 

Ace's face blanched slightly at the blunt statement, before falling slightly into despair.

 

“I...think that I might be developing feelings for Kurasame.” He whispered softly.

 

“The Commander?” Queried Eight, not as surprised as he thought he would be. He had noticed the two spending lots of time together, and he had also noticed the looks of jealously the Commander would shoot the troops when they took his time away from Ace.

 

Ace nodded sadly.

 

“And what is the problem with that then?”

 

“He's never shown any indication that he is interested in me. He liked what I looked like when he thought that I was a woman....but since then nothing. And I'm beginning to think that he just doesn't want a used up whore like me.”

 

“Hey, what did I just say about kicking the ass of anyone that called you that huh?” Eight admonished gently. “You are not any of those things Ace. You are brave and strong and beautiful. If Kurasame can't see that then he is a fool. But has it occurred to you, that perhaps he is trying to not force anything on you because of how you were treated before? Maybe he is scared that you will feel like you own him for saving you, or that you may not be ready or willing to be with him?”

 

“That's just silly Eight,” Ace scoffed lightly. “Who wouldn't want a man such as the Commander? He is kind-hearted and generous with his time and his affections. He makes me feel safe and wanted, I never feel fear when he is around. Even from the start I felt that this was a man that I could trust. He has gone out of his way to help me and to find our brothers and sisters, he makes me feel like a real person again. Even if he isn't interested in me in the way that I am him...” Ace trailed off sadly.

 

“I am glad that you think so highly of me, for I think just as highly of you.” Ace nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Kurasame's voice coming from behind him. He spun around to face the other man, face once again on fire from embarrassment.

 

Smiling softly at Ace, Eight rose to leave. “I'll just leave you two to talk then shall I? Do you mind if I take this folder to look at more Ace?”

 

Ace agreed, never once taking his eyes off of Kurasame. Eight rolled his eyes, at the foolishness of these two idiots. He turned to walk away before spinning to face his Commander.

 

“And Kurasame?” He waited until he heard the small grunt of confirmation. “You man be my Commander, but if you hurt Ace, you had better hope that Ifrit takes you as my siblings and I will hunt you down and tear you limb from limb.” And with those parting words, Eight stalked off.

 

“I'm an idiot.” Ace was startled at the words Kurasame spoke.

 

“I have ignored the feelings that I have been harbouring for you under a misguided attempt to not pressure you into anything that you may not be ready for, when really I should have spoken to you and let you decide for yourself what it is you want.”

  
Ace opened his mouth to speak, but Kurasame lifted a hand to forestall his questions.

 

“You amaze me. You are so strong and so brave to come here and forge a new life even when everyone seemed to be against you. You have made friends, and are thriving and every day you are more beautiful than the last, because every day you seem to become happier and happier. You are not used or a whore or whatever other words you used to tear yourself down. You are beautiful, inside and out. I want to spend all of my time with you, and I get unreasonably jealous when your attention strays elsewhere. I'm not going to say that I love you, because I don't know you well enough yet to say that, but I've never felt like this before about anyone. I want you by my side, to find out what this is and where it could go. So please....be mine?”

 

Ace choked back the tears that threatened to fall once more, moved by Kurasame's blunt words. The truth and sincerity shone through every word he spoke. The fear that the other saw him as used, faded. One reassurance would not be enough to dispel his fears completely, but it had gone a long way to putting those thoughts to rest.

 

“If you had told me that you loved me, I wouldn't have believed you.” Ace started. “I want to get to know you better too, want to see if maybe these feelings that we have could turn into love. I want to know all of your pain and all of your joys. I want to be there with you and for you. You sheltered me from my fears when they were almost too great for me to bear, and you kept me safe from harm. Both from myself and others. You say that you do not care for my past, and you make me feel like I can one day be whole again.”

 

Ace took in a shuddering breath. “I've never wanted to be someone else's before. But with you...I want to be yours, but only if you will be mine.”

 

“Anything Ace. I will be your everything, I promise.”

 

With those words, he leant forwards and gently sealed his promise with a kiss. It was not a passionate kiss, full of heat and longing, those would come later when they were both ready to move their new relationship forwards. This was just a simple kiss, filled with promises of the future. Whatever the future may hold, they hoped that they would face it together.

 

As long as Kurasame survived Ace's siblings.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've made it this far, congratulations.  
> Not really happy with how this ended, but I'm just glad that it is now done.  
> I know that I haven't really touched on Ace's recovery, but honestly having never been in a situation like that, I'm not sure how to even describe how he would begin to heal from that.
> 
> Let me know what you think, or if there is anything you might like to see in the future.  
> Thanks :)


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